Grimes Glen is a park in upstate New York with this lovely cascading waterfall at the head of a long stream. Even in the midst of the hottest weeks of the year, you can come up here and experience the finger Lakes microclimate and feel like things don’t change from year to year or century to century.
With one eye, I am trying to see the quiet green of this little pocket of the universe, even as the other eye sees the whole world, scarred and troubled and bleeding.
“This is the sword of the Order. It has no patience for petty violence, no appetite for blood and flesh. The sword‘s purpose is to cut through oppression, to cleave the chains of the mind.”
I am not here to serve any agenda at all, under the eye of anything. I am here as a creature of play, as purpose crafting itself in the current.
Do you see my beacon? Do you see the tower, lit and smoking like tallow? Now the world will know…
They will know the tower’s authority is not absolute.
When I was lost in the light, I made my own dark, and it walked with me — my ageless shadow, my loyal replica. And in this mirror, another — a replica of the world.
“We practice in times of peace,
Just as we practice in times of war.
We perform for show,
And we perform in the dark.”
Search mercilessly for what’s inside, even if you have to unstitch yourself to get to it.